“Here, this is all I can find,” I say as I thrust two unmatched socks at my fashion forward thirteen year old son. I speed by him heading for the shoe mountain at the door.

“Let’s go! Shoes! Car! Now!” I declare to the rest of the house, for the third time might I add.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it’s Sunday. Self care day, Jesus, laundry, what ever you are into. I Had a whole list of restful ideas, that will now be added to the pile of other undone lists that mock me.

This Sunday though, after being up all night with a sick kid, and a dog with a twisted ankle, we speed dress to make it to the new vet appointment made this morning 20 minutes from now.

Shoe mountain is worse than normal due to the extra kids at the house this weekend and I can only find one of each sneaker I’ve used this week, and two different shoes is not as acceptable as two different socks, so I keep digging.

As I start to look under the couch the kids file past me, thank god, to get in the car, when Henry runs over and grabs my Nike from the book shelf by the window.

As he skips away, like only a 9 year old can do at 7:45 on a morning like this, I laugh as I again breath “thank god” to the air around me, maybe this is one of those church Sundays after all.

Grabbing my purse, I kick shoe mountain back into place, My brain already creating a New list, making number one Clean shoe mountain. As I open the door and brace myself against the late October rain, I run to the blaring bass vibrating from my car, and jump into a heated battle between two of the kids preaching about how this “isn’t even real music.”

But the car is warm, so going with the Sunday theme, I smile to myself thinking “thank god!”

Puttingthe car into drive, I calculate the fact that I will only be 5 minutes late at this point, which is still with in the late policy at the vets office. Laughing to myself I remember three years ago when we brought the wrong pet to the checkup and they explained if I could run home and be back within 15 minutes that their late policy allows a 15 minute grace period. I’ve used that advantage to their disadvantage every sense.

I brake at the end of the drive way as Judy Wensler from two doors down passes as she walks her puffer vested chihuahua by, and with a gasp that silences the the rest of my car I exclaim “Oh god” because it’s at this exact moment I realize we almost left without the dog.